The Sleazy Landlord

Hello and happy Friday! I don't know if any of you dream or keep track of your dreams, but I have vivid dreams all the time and like to analyze them. When cancer struck, my dreams took a dark turn. I began having recurring dreams in which a wild looking young woman with raggedy hair and clothes would come after me. No matter where I was hiding, she would find me. When I tried to fight back, she would laugh and just keep coming. Pretty scary, right? Since the surgery, I haven't had any of these dreams, which is a relief. I also haven't been too worried. In fact, surgery was such a relief that I began feeling like the worst was over and that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Two weeks have now passed, and like the true worrier that I am, I began to feel that I was getting too complacent. In fact, yesterday I heard myself tell Hans, "I should be worrying more." Needless to say, he wasn't excited to hear this.

What caused this worry to start? Not sure, but I think it can be traced to a phone conversation I had with my care team nurse, Tara, this week. This is ironic because she actually had great news for me. I had called to ask about when to expect chemo to start because I am simultaneously nervous about this, but also want it to start soon. She told me that since the surgery results showed that I was node negative (meaning cancer hadn't spread to a countable level in the lymph nodes) and that I was ER/PR+, they had ordered an Oncotype test on my tumor to determine the kind of chemo I would get or need. This info threw me for a loop because they had told me before surgery that I would most likely have the AC-T regimen for 4 months followed by radiation. Needing to have the test meant that this could change...for the better, potentially. Tara thought the fact that I had to get the test on the tumor was great news because the test helps determine how effective chemo will be for me. Maybe I wouldn't need as much. Maybe I didn't have to worry so much. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe...

At any rate, the dream I had last night solidified my feelings of wanting to get going on the next phase of this journey. In the dream, I woke up inside my house and could hear someone rustling around in the downstairs. A woman I didn't know appeared, which kind of spooked me because it meant she had entered the house somehow. When I confronted her about this, she apologized and said she had some important papers for the homeowner that needed signing and had looked for me around the house before leaving. This sounded legit to me in the dream, so we sat at a table to look the papers over. In them, I discovered that a sleazy landlord wanted to build a huge, ugly apartment complex on the site where my house stood and needed me to sign over the land where my house was for a large amount of cash. The lady told me that the landlord was waiting outside for the papers, and when I looked out the window, he was sitting in the back seat of a beaten up limo. Sleazy, for sure. I didn't sign the papers and told her I was going to call the cops. That's when I woke up.

To me, this dream means that I am afraid that cancer is kind of waiting to take up residence in my body again. It's right outside the door in a sleazy limo waiting for an opportunity. I'll be darned if I will let it! That's why I want to get the green light for the next phase. A little chemo? A lot of  chemo? I'm probably going to worry regardless, so my feeling is, let's get this show on the road!

Have a great weekend!

el Cancertan

Hello! Have you ever wondered why people enjoy and even pay to do really difficult or dangerous things? Like...why would someone pay tuition to become an expert on snakes? Why would that guy in River Monsters go in search of scary fish that lie in wait under the water? Why would someone choose to scale a mountain like el Capitan in Yosemite if they could fall and die at any moment? For the record, I am a belt-and-suspenders kind of gal; I'll take risks, but they're calculated, so having to deal with cancer has upset my sense of equilibrium. The risks and dangers are choosing me. It's a weird feeling to say the least.

Whether I want to or not, this week I continued my climb up el Cancertan. I finally got the pathology results back from the doctor and this is what they found:

1. My right side was totally clear with no indication of any cancer.
2. My left side contained a tumor that measured 5.2cm or this long: ________________________
3. The surgeon took out 5 lymph nodes. Why 5? Before surgery they shot a colored dye into that side to see which nodes the tumor might drain to if it had a chance. During surgery, it drained to 5 nodes.
4. Three of the five nodes were clear, but two of the nodes had ITC or Isolated Tumor Cells.

*Dramatic side note - I started freaking out a bit when I heard this!

5. My surgeon said that she thought it was "fantastic" that there were only ITCs in 2 of the nodes with a tumor that size. Basically, it means that the tumor cells in there hadn't started clumping together, so they kind of don't count or affect my diagnosis. Plus, since she took everything out, I feel better about it now...more cancer free than I was.

6. It doesn't change my diagnosis - I'm still Stage IIb. I will start chemo in a few weeks and then do radiation.

7. I went to physical therapy yesterday and found out that I will always need to be concerned about possible lymph-edema in my left arm since the nodes were taken out. This means I will need to wear a compression sleeve on the airplane when I take a trip to the Caribbean next summer (Hans, that is a hint!). It also means I just have to be careful with that arm and try not to get it inflamed/aggravated so it doesn't swell.

Other than that, I am on the mend and am enjoying a visit from my sister this weekend!
Love and light,
Jennifer

The View from Up Here...

Hello folks, I've got a  short quiz for you: Does the title of this post refer to:
       A. My drug high from surgery meds.
       B. My elation from having the tumor out.
       C. The feeling that I've climbed a mountain, both physically and mentally.
       D. All of the above.
If you answered "D", you'd be correct. It should be an easy question, and I'm all about making things easier these days. Thanks to all of you who have been praying and thinking about me and my family. I know you have been waiting for news about how things went for me, so here are some short vignettes from this past week.

Poignant moment #1 - Right before surgery last Tuesday, I was alone on the surgical bed in the holding area (kind of like a plane before take-off). I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, my surgeon had softly walked up. She took my hand, and said, "Are you ready for this? My answer: "I've been ready for weeks!" We both laughed, but it was the last time I laughed that day.

Worst moment #1 - Waking up from the surgery anesthetic. It felt like I was coming up for air after being under water. There was a nurse there who wanted me to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10 right away. At first, I couldn't grasp the concept of numbers, but then I told her it was a hard 7. So so so sore. One of the really terrible things about having cancer that no one really mentions is how you wake up with a jolt in the morning remembering that it's true...you do have cancer. Waking up from the surgery was a double whammy. I remembered why I was there, and now there was painful physical proof.

Worst moment #2 - Taking the bandages off the first time. Just. Awful.

Grateful moments
* Seeing my mom, dad, and Hans in the hospital room after surgery. I was so thankful to be okay and to see their smiling faces! Here I am with mom and dad a few days after surgery. We went to Munsinger Gardens and walked around for awhile. I felt reborn.

*The first taste of hospital broth after surgery...sounds crazy, but it was wonderful.
*The nursing staff and my surgeon - I don't know how they do their jobs, but then again, people say that about me teaching high school!
*Coming home to lots of flowers and cards from everyone.
*The boys being sweet and thoughtful in their teenage boy ways, especially when Hans told Luke that I would need more time to get ready to go out, and Luke said, "Why? Mom is the same as she always was."
*Being able to enjoy nature and the people I love. The fact that I can think and communicate and be silly and move around without major problems is miraculous to me!

Lots to be thankful for!
Jennifer

P.S. My sister has set up a meal service for us if you'd like to participate. Go to Take Them a Meal and use the FIND feature with my name - Christoffersen and password: 100273 to find us. Thanks!